No Pressure Over Cappucino
by Mimi The Muse
Summary: Music hath charms to soothe the savage beast. And remind one of truths that can't be escaped.


Title: No Pressure Over Cappuccino Author: Mary Ann Summers Rating: PG-13 Spoilers: "Joy"  
Disclaimer: I don't own Cuddy or House. I also do not own the lyrics to the song that was the inspiration for this story and used within it, "No Pressure Over Cappicino" by Alanis Morisette.  
Summary: Music hath charms to soothe the savage beast. And to remind one of what they can't escape.

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The last few hours were a blur, a few brief flashes of the night coming to her in disjointed blurts. The birth mother telling her she was keeping the baby. Visiting Joy, though that would likely never be her name, for the last time. Going home to a freshly painted nursery. House's visit. The kiss. The swell of emotion that kept her up most of the night.

Things slowed down a little after the kiss she'd shared with House, though she was well on the way to convincing herself it had just been a moment of weakness. One that had felt warm and wonderful, but a moment of weakness none the less. That's all she could allow it to be. Her broken heart didn't need House's antics to cause further damage.

After he had beat a hasty retreat without so much as a word to her, she'd spent the rest of the night sitting in the nursery that was doomed to be empty. Tears and anger mixed together, and by the time the sun started to peak above the horizon the need to get out was almost unbearable. She stopped at the first cafe she found, a few streets down from her house. Not the one she'd met the birth mother in. No, she wouldn't be darkening that door for a long time. If ever again.

Instead she was sitting here in this cafe she'd never stepped foot in before, the Saturday morning coffee crowd murmuring in their booths all around her. There was a half drank vanillia cappucino in front of her, but the only thing she could taste was bitter disappointment. Over the sound system, a female voice sang in a nasal tone against a background of acoustic guitar and strings. Something about being like a 90's Jesus, whatever that meant. And it wasn't just the singer who thought it was dark in here.

Cuddy would've tuned the song out, as she normally did with the mood music they played at places like this, but she seemed to be sitting directly under a speaker. Even then, she managed to mostly ignore the music. Until the refrain of that particular song, when the lyrics nearly made her breath stop in her throat.

You may never be or have a husband You may never have or hold a child You will learn to lose everything We are temporary arrangements

The breath seemed to form into a lump in her throat as the words cut her. The rest of the song was off in the distance now, unhearable in the sea of pain that had washed over Cuddy. She vaguely remembered her high school music teacher talking about moments where the right lyric reached out from a song and touched you.

Hard as it was to admit, the lyrics were right. At this moment every arangement in life felt painfully temporary and loss was the rule not the exception. She was much farther past thrirty then she would care to admit, and every night she went home to an empty house. No husband. No children. Not even a boyfriend or a working uterus. Just herself, and the job that didn't follow her home and keep her company during the night.

Tears came to her eyes for the hundreth time that day and she tossed a crumpled five on the table, standing up on a shaky legs to leave the cafe before there was a scene. She did still have some dignity, even if it felt like she didn't have much else going for her. Just the tears and the bitter disappointment she could still taste at the back of her throat.

She stumbled out to her with a haze of tears blocking her vision, managing to get there without bumping into anyone. Sitting behind the steering wheel, she worked to keep herself from breaking down completely. But she was having a hard time finding a reason she shouldn't just cry. Her whole life was a mess, what was a few tears and a little smudged mascara more?

You may never be or have a husband. How very true. She was single and the man she was most interested in, okay maybe even had feelings for, didn't have the emotional capacity to be in a relationship. The only other male she was close to was someone she regarded more as a brother, not to mention he was House's best friend. There simply weren't any other males present in her life that didn't have blood ties. No husband prospects as far as the eye could see.

You may never have or hold a child. Or worst yet, you might hold a child and then have it wrenched out of your arms. Then you have to wonder if it's not some signal from Someone Upstairs that you're not meant for motherhood. Or maybe life is just cruel like that. But having a taste of what couldn't be yours was the cruelest trick in the bag.

Cuddy considered herself a modern woman. She didn't need a husband or a child to find happiness, she was allowed to get an education and have a career. And yet there had been this part of her that had always believed there would be a husband and children in her life as well as being a doctor.

Maybe it was naive, but now she felt cheated. She wondered why she couldn't have what most women took for granted? Women got pregnant everyday on accident, some gave up their babies, others had abortions. How was that even remotely fair?

She rested her forehead against the steering wheel and started to sob as her mind answered the question back. It wasn't fair because life wasn't fair. And it never would be. It was, after all, a temporary arrangement. 


End file.
